Diplomacy

by 8686

Power Corrupts

“Ember? Ember! What happened? Ember?!” Spike tried, yelling over the rushing wind as they soared upwards, but though he was certain she could hear him, she gave no reply. Just carried on looking determinedly forward, and he could see her fists constantly balling and relaxing. Eventually their flight levelled off as they more or less reached the height of the plateau, and the wind-noise died. Spike tried again, waiting for persistence to yield a reward. “Ember? Please, talk to me? What was that about?”

“It was about me being right, Spike!” fumed Ember. “This was never going to work.”

“But you didn’t even—!”

“—Get five minutes?!” snapped Ember, turning her ire on him suddenly. “Great distraction, by the way! Just terrific! Were you out for a slow jog or what?!” she vented.

“From what I heard it doesn’t sound like a longer conversation would’ve done much good,” said Spike, a little annoyance rising in himself now. How had Ember managed to take something so simple and complicate it so much? “What happened?!” he tried again.

“She thought I was there to extort her. Didn’t even consider anything else! Basically accused me of holding you to ransom!” growled Ember. Then she turned her head and managed to meet his gaze. “Let me make one thing crystal clear, Spike. I’m the Dragon Lord, and you’re a dragon. That means wherever you go in this world, and whatever you choose to do, you’re my responsibility. You’re under my protection. And no ponies are going to say otherwise.” She turned her head forward again, her piece said and the conversation over.

Spike didn’t have a reply to that, and he still had little idea of why Ember had become so utterly enraged. It wasn’t the time to bridge the question right now, so for a few moments they climbed in silence until they reached the level of the plateau. And then they saw it.

Spike had to squint in the low light, but as they got closer, he saw it more clearly. There was something else on the plateau now. Something that hadn’t been there when they left. Uh oh.

“Um, Ember? The kidnapping-slash-ransom thing?” said Spike. “I don’t think it was me she was referring to.”

“What the rock?” muttered Ember under her breath.

On the flat surface of the plateau there was a new construct of some kind. It looked like several of the largest, thickest stalactites from inside the cave had been wrenched off with great force, and driven into the flat rock of the plateau, pointed ends first, and at angles. Together they made up a coned, teepee-like arrangement. It looked, disconcertingly, like the sort of structure you might make from kindling were you planning to start a fire... just bigger. And even more disconcertingly Spike could see movement from within it. There was a creature there, trapped in the middle of the cage of stalactites. No, not a creature... a pony. And as they got closer still... oh. Oh boy. Spike sighed and had to rest his forehead in a palm. Blue flightsuit, goggles, rainbow-coloured hair. Of course it was. It just couldn’t have been anypony else, could it?

Rainbow Dash was pacing warily inside her improvised cage, though she had barely two meters of floor-space to work with and much less headroom than that even, thanks to the angle of the stalactites. Every so often she would fire a harsh glare at Scald who lay on all fours in his customary position, keeping one eye on her but otherwise rather unconcerned. The remaining dragons, though they had sent up a great collective roar earlier on had now largely returned to their resting states. Even the return of Ember and Spike to the plateau did not much invigorate them, though it drew a modicum of attention.

Upon seeing them both, Scald rose to all-fours and dipped his head in greeting. Apparently noting that she had returned empty-clawed, he said, “My Lord? Your excursion was unsuccessful?”

Ember couldn’t take her gaze off the confined pony for a long, silent moment, her mouth even open a little in shock and surprise. At last she put on an angry frown – an expression that was worryingly easy to fall back into – and turned a glower upon the hulking scarlet brute. “Scald? This had better be good.”

Scald initially seemed confused until she gave an annoyed nod in the direction of the cage, and its occupant. “What is that?” Ember half-asked, half-accused.

“A spy,” replied Scald with a little matter-of-fact shrug. “I wager the natives have been sending them since we arrived. This one made the mistake of venturing too close to me,” he added with a victorious smirk to Rainbow Dash’s silent ire, and she deliberately looked away.

Only to have her attention drawn back when an angered Ember began stalking towards the cage, to stand snout-to-muzzle with her. Dash returned a defiant glare.

“So you’ve been spying on us too?!” seethed Ember, though it was more a rhetorical question, fuelled simply by rage than desire for an answer.

“Hey! I wasn’t spying!” retorted Rainbow Dash. “I was doing, ‘re-con-nonsense.’ It’s totally different to spying.”

There was an awkward silence.

“Reconnaissance. It’s... basically the same thing, Rainbow Dash,” said Spike, pressing a claw to his forehead.

“Hey! Whose side are you on?!” snapped Rainbow, before she returned her gaze to Ember and raised her muzzle high. “Besides, I can’t tell you what I was doing. The only thing I’m supposed to give you is my name, rank, and serial number,” she harrumphed. “Ahem. Rainbow Dash. Wonderbolt. Uhh... R-A-I-N-B—”

“Uh, Dash? That’s not a serial number, that’s just your name spelled out,” observed Spike.

Dash blinked, surprised, and then slowly found her defiant frown again. “Well then... you can’t have my serial number, because I forgot it!” she threw out. Then a moment later her frown relented. “I mean seriously, it was really long. And it’s not even a number, it’s letters and numbers? Who came up with that? I... think there’s a four in it?” she offered.

Ember simply gazed open-mouthed at Rainbow Dash, then shook her head, bewildered.

Spike turned to Ember, a slow, cold dread settling over him, and he spoke with shaky-voiced urgency. “The Wonderbolts we saw, the catapults, the Guards getting ready for a fight... this is why. Ember... this is serious. Y-you’ve taken a hostage!”

“I have captured a spy,” argued Scald who then looked to Ember, his voice dipping to a sinister rumble. “A spy who did not even make the effort to conceal itself. It is an insult, my Lord. They are mocking you, thumbing their noses.”

Ember stayed silent for a moment, then returned his gaze with a cool one which she held for a long, drawn-out moment before she responded. “So?”

Scald blinked, a little taken aback at Ember’s total disinterest at the supposed affront. Finally he regained his composure. “Do you wish me to... interrogate it?”

“No.”

“But perhaps it will reveal the location of the Treasure you seek.”

“I said no, Scald.” Ember’s glower was a fixture. “There’s no point.”

“Then... you did learn of its location?” Scald’s head cocked in apparent confusion. “If you know where their prize is, then why not simply take it now?”

“Because it isn’t something we can take,” shot Ember. “If I had to take what I came here for by force... it wouldn’t be worth having.”

Scald looked thoroughly bemused now. “I am not accustomed to riddles, my Lord,” he growled, his own annoyance starting to bleed through even if he was addressing his ruler. “The treasure has value, you desire it, and the natives cannot stop us taking it. It is a very simple equation.”

Ember met his gaze, unwavering. “There’s nothing simple about any of this, and then you went and complicated things further by putting a pony in a cage!”

“A creature we can leverage to obtain your tr—”

“No, Scald!” screamed Ember. “How many times?! Ugh! The treasure... the treasure is a metaphor! A met-a-phor! Don’t you get it? Do you really not understand?! Equestria’s Greatest Treasure, the Source of All Their Power, the Key to Their Strength – it’s all the same thing! It’s...!” She looked once more at Rainbow Dash, and gave another heavy, defeated sigh. “I don’t even know what to properly call it.”

Dash looked surprised for a moment as understanding dawned. “Friendship?”

“Not even that. Right now I’d settle for ‘co-operation’, or even ‘not tearing six layers of scales off each other,’” she added with a grumble. She looked at Scald again. “Intimidation... destruction... isolation... that’s all a dragon is. That doesn’t improve us! It doesn’t make us better, or more powerful! I... I want dragons to co-operate. I want us to learn to build! Community. A society. Maybe even a city like that one day! That’s how we get stronger. That’s why I brought you here. To Equestria: a land where everyone gets along without constantly fighting for their place in a pecking order. Where wanting to work together isn’t treated as something suspicious... in fact it doesn’t get given a second thought. This storied utopia where they offer love and tolerance and help to anycreature that needs it...” she said, turning slowly to fix her cold, furious eyes on Rainbow Dash, her face as thunder. “...except dragons.

“To think I actually believed this could work. What an idiot I was to think there was any chance we’d coexist.” Rainbow Dash looked as though to offer some objection but Ember steamrollered on, her voice hissing and seething. “Ponies. You’ll be friends with buffalo. You’ll be friends with yaks. You’ll be friends with griffons, and breezies, and sea-serpents, and minotaurs, and changelings, and the Lord of Chaos himself! It doesn’t even matter if someone once tried to destroy you. You welcome them in with smiles and open hooves and friendship festivals and share what you have with all of them!” she yelled. Then her voice once more became a cold, hissing growl. “But not us. Not dragons. When dragons arrive... you call armies. You build weapons. You send spies! Because we’re big, and scary, and threatening and we couldn’t possibly be anything else!” Her voice dropped and she hissed again, the end of her snout scant millimeters from Rainbow’s by now. “What did we do to you, hmm? What did we do wrong, except show up here and wait to be told we weren’t wanted?”

“I... er?”

“And you know what the worst part is? The thing that makes me more angry and frustrated than anything else?” Suddenly Ember whirled, her arm snapping up, shooting an outstretched claw squarely at Scald. “It’s that you were right, Scald!” she cried, to which Scald quirked an eyebrow and cocked his head as if unsure why that had ever been in doubt. “Because if we aren’t welcome in Equestria... we’ll never be welcome anywhere.” Ember hung her head, the anger that she’d been building since Canterlot finally released and spent. “We’re dragons.”

A moment of stunned silence.

“If... the natives’ lack of hospitality toward us angers you...” Scald began with a note of uncertainty, but quickly building in confidence, “then make your displeasure known. Do not let their slights go unanswered. At your command, my Lord, I and your subjects will raze their city with fire and smoke until these creatures beg for your favor. Make an example: let it be known to them and all who know them never to risk shunning Dragon Lord Ember when she arrives on their shores!” he cried with a triumphant crescendo. “They will venerate you and all dragon-kind before the new day is over. I will see to it. Simply... give the word.”

Ember was very silent, and very still for a moment, looking at the ground and struggling to keep her breathing calm. There was a long silence before at last she said, “No, Scald.”

Again, Scald seemed confused. “But they—!”

“That isn’t... what I want!” she fumed, giving him a sharp look. Her gaze returned to the floor, she shook her head, and then with a final glance at Rainbow Dash, she turned and began to tramp towards the mountain cave. “I’m going to be alone for a while. Go check on Pyre: I don’t care if he’s still whining about his wing, give it a massage or something because if he’s still not flight-worthy, you’re carrying him. We’re leaving. Now.” A moment later, Ember disappeared into the cave, and was gone.

Scald snorted and scoffed. “Divisive.”

Spike shot him an angry glare. “Progressive,” he answered back.

“Progress? This? We have done nothing here but waste time. Surely you see that?” muttered Scald, turning for the mountain slope and catching Spike’s eye. “It seems I have a task. You should prepare to leave. Lord Ember seems impatient.” He placed a large foreclaw on the rock-face and started climbing toward one of the other dragons perched further up toward the peak, muttering “Of course I was right,” to himself as he went.

A moment of silence descended.

“Well... this is a huge mess,” said Spike.

“I’ll say,” said Rainbow.

“What happened?!” said Spike, rounding on Dash with a hint of annoyance. “I thought you all had orders ‘not to be seen under any circumstances’? How did you get caught?”

“I was looking for you!” snapped Rainbow.

“You... were?”

“Yeah! Fleetfoot obviously spilled the beans that she’d brought you up here – oh, she’s on punishment detail for a month for breaking protocol and Spitfire’s gonna kill me when she finds out about this – I came to get you out of here!”

“You did?”

“Of course I did! And you know, if you’d actually been here I wouldn’t have had to search for you so... technically, this is your fault,” she proclaimed. That earned her a level, arms-folded, eyebrow-quirked stare from the dry-witted dragon. She sighed an annoyed sigh and looked back. “Look, I was – I mean, I wasn’t not – worried about you, okay?” Then her expression softened. “Come on, what was I supposed to do, knowing you were up here? When my sortie came up I had to make sure you were at least okay, right? But I couldn’t see you anywhere. So when I saw the cave I figured you must be inside. I also figured Scaly-McScaleface was asleep.” She shook her head. “Soon as I went in looking for you he blocked the exit and trapped me. Then... he put me in here,” she finished sourly.

Spike let out a sigh through his nose and relented. “Did he hurt you?”

“Uh, yeah! He tore huge chunks out of my pride, if you must know. Honestly, you wouldn’t believe how that guy can gloat.”

“No... I really would,” said Spike.

“Anyway the point is you’re back, and it sounds like we gotta book outta here fast before the dragons leave and try to take you with them.” She fixed him with another serious look. “I’m gonna need you to eat me out.”

Spike blinked. Looked back at Dash and raised another eyebrow. “Sorry, say that again?”

“I’m serious Spike!” said Rainbow, trying to shout in a whisper. “Come on, I’ve seen those chompers of yours crunch their way through diamonds. Just chew through one of these rock pillar thingies... and then I’ll handle the rest,” she said with a characteristic cocky smirk.

Spike’s face fell and he looked at Dash seriously, and sighed. “Rainbow Dash... you can’t take me away from here. Not now. If they go, I... I’ve gotta go too.”

“What?! What are you talking about? Spike, the dragons are leaving! You don’t have to go with them just because some Dragon Lord said! You bust me out of here and I can have us both back home in Ponyville in sixty seconds! You know I can do it.”

Spike was quiet for a moment. In spite of everything, he would be lying to himself if he said it wasn’t tempting. Rainbow Dash might have been putting on her brash, cocky persona, but she really could get him home within a minute. Sixty seconds... and this whole mess could be behind him. Get out of Dodge, back to safety. Ember would leave. He’d be back home with Twilight. Life would go on exactly as it had always done. To Rainbow Dash and the rest of Equestria, there would be very little lost. They’d even see it as a victory, perhaps. But to Spike... it would mean losing what could have been, here, today, if only. And that was an unfathomable amount.

He steeled himself and fixed Rainbow’s gaze. “I can’t. I mean, I’m sorry but...” his voice hardened a little. “...but you don’t get it either, do you? What’s at stake here? Like... why is it ‘them’ and ‘us’ all of a sudden, huh?” he asked seriously. “A minute ago you asked me whose side I was on. I know you’re thinking it: am I an ‘us’ or a ‘them’ now? Why do I have to be either?! You, Celestia, Scald – you’re all assuming there are two sides! Ember sees it differently, and so do I. But right now she thinks she’s wrong... and if she takes these dragons now and leaves, and I stay here in Equestria, ‘them’ and ‘us’ becomes the way of things. Maybe forever.” He put on a determined frown. “I wouldn’t be much of an ambassador if I stood back and let the door swing shut on friendship between ponies and dragons, especially when we’ve come so close. Ember can be convinced that it’s worth it – she wants to be! – but I’m the only dragon who’d ever try to persuade her, and you’ve already seen what I’d be up against. If she leaves... I’d have to go too. She’ll listen to me. And if I’m not there, she’ll listen to dragons like Scald instead.”

“Wow...” breathed Rainbow Dash. “You’re... really taking the whole ‘ambassador’ thing seriously.”

Spike’s determined frown intensified, and his voice found a little introspective fire. “Someone has to. Right now there’s no wall between being friends with ponies and actually being a dragon. I’m not just gonna stand by while one gets built.”

Dash gave a subtle, respectful nod, and then a little sigh. “Well, I guess if you’re staying, then so am I.”

Spike’s fire died a little and he met Rainbow’s gaze with a weak, wan smile. “You don’t have to. I mean, I can still try and get you out... but you’d have to promise to leave me behind. Also... it’s gonna take longer than you think.” Even at their thinnest point where they pierced the granite of the plateau, the stalactites were thicker than he could encircle with both arms. It was possible, but it wasn’t quite the two minute job Rainbow Dash had thought it to be.

“And risk you getting busted? No way. They’re never gonna listen to you if you’re the one who let the captured spy go, right? They might even... I dunno, what is the dragon punishment for helping the enemy?”

“Ember doesn’t think you’re an en—”

“I’m staying,” she said firmly, the sentiment rather undermined by the fact that she gave an involuntary, full-body shiver a moment later. “But... let’s try and fix everything before they take you away so I’m not stuck in here for longer than I have to be? This flight-suit is skin-tight and it’s not exactly fleece-lined. I am really cold.”

“Uh... okay, yeah. I’m working on it,” sighed Spike.

Dash frowned. “You do have a plan. Right?”

“Oh sure,” said Spike with resignation. “The plan. The plan to convince all these Dragons they’d be better off by allying themselves with a bunch of tiny magical ponies, give Ember a way of making peace with the princesses while allowing her to save face with her subjects and accommodating the fact that Canterlot’s actually on a war-footing against her; give the Princesses a way of making peace with Ember while addressing the fact that the Dragons have invaded their land and terrorized their city and taken a hostage; and figure out how to do all of that without anyone causing a major diplomatic incident that triggers a huge confrontation, and all before every-dragon leaves forever.” He gave a glance at Rainbow. “That plan?”

Dash paled a little, then gave a weary sigh. “Okay, yeah, it sounds tricky.” She shivered again.

An unwelcome shadow fell upon them from above as Scald languidly clambered down the slope and hefted his bulk back onto the plateau, lying down uncomfortably close. He turned his head towards the cave entrance and gave a single, explosive exhalation. Something caught between a bark and a roar. It was answered from the cave with a similar bark that Spike recognised as Ember’s voice. Something akin to dragon shorthand for, ‘In a minute!’ he guessed. Scald gave a brief sniff then he returned his attention to Spike. “Pyre’s wing is fine, despite his whining, We will leave as soon as Lord Ember is ready,” he told Spike.

“Wait so... what about me?” said Rainbow Dash.

Scald glanced at her, and gave an annoyed, dismissive frown. “What about you?”

“Right. You’re gonna leave me. In here. It’s just... if a blizzard or something comes in... I’ll freeze solid,” she admitted.

“And? I suppose you think you deserve a better fate, spy?” Scald scoffed. “If you would rather be too hot than too cold, I will gladly arrange it.”

“Hey,” objected Spike. “Leave her alone.”

The bigger dragon gave a loud snort, but relented. “Lord Ember was misguided to bring us here. What was she thinking we could ever ‘learn’ from creatures such as this?”

“Maybe something how being kind to others and not a jerk all the time makes a better world for everyone?” riposted Dash.

“Everyone else, perhaps. Being kind to others makes things no better for me. Why would I waste time and effort for no reward?” He scoffed again. “The only thing your kind could teach us is how to be as weak and insignificant as you. An example to be avoided.”

Rainbow frowned, and under her breath grumbled, “We’ll see who’s weak and insignificant when I shove a rainboom up your—”

“Dash!” scolded Spike.

“What? I wasn’t gonna say it,” she grouched.

Spike sighed and turned to Scald. “They’re not insignificant, and they’re not weak. In fact you shouldn’t underestimate them. The ponies are much more powerful than you think they are.”

“Exactly!” said Rainbow Dash. “We’re strong and tough and all sorts!”

Scald snorted and shook his head. “If I wished to squish you, pony, it would be the work of an instant. Where, exactly, is your power? Your strength?”

“You met Princess Celestia, remember?” said Spike. “She controls the sun. That’s the level of power they have.”

“Yeah! How is that not, like, the most powerful thing ever?”

Scald gave a funny look at that, and then an eye-roll. “‘Controls the sun,’” he snorted. “You are naive to believe the world works in such ways.”

“No... she really does raise the sun,” said Spike. “Trust me, I’ve seen her do it, and I’ve seen what happens when she’s not around to do it.”

He got another derisive snort for that. “Yet she ‘controls’ nothing. She may be the cause of the sun raising and lowering, but you would say that gives her power over it, would you?”

“Well... yeah,” said Spike, with Rainbow Dash agreeing in lockstep.

“Then you lack understanding of power,” the dragon scoffed at both of them. “Tell me: when was the last time she chose not to raise the sun? Hmm? Would she ever decide to leave it lowered, even for a day?”

“No, of course not. She’d never do that,” said Dash.

Scald nodded and gave a short, affirmative grunt. “Then what ‘power’ does she have? Power... true power... is choice. It is the freedom to do whatever you want and the ability to do it whenever you wish. Yet she wakes and raises the sun at the appointed hour every single morning, and retires only after she lowers it dutifully every single night.” He fixed Spike with a glare. “You say she ‘controls’ the sun. I say the sun controls her. You say she has power over it? I say she is its slave.”

“But she does it because raising the sun helps everypony. It’s a big, huge important job that every pony relies on her to do,” argued Spike.

“Don’t you see? This is exactly the point. This is why such creatures are weak. Reliance. Dependence. Ah, it is the same the world over,” he said with a nodded gesture at Rainbow Dash. “Look at this pony. Do you really imagine such a small, feeble creature could survive alone in the wilds of this world? Of course not. So they are forced to find others. Their continued existence gives them no choice but to herd together with the rest of their kind, to compensate for their individual inadequacies. They sacrifice their own desires for a ‘greater whole’ and euphemise their reliance on each other as ‘friendship’, ‘love’, ‘trust’, any number of things. They become wilfully blind to how their interdependence places them but a breath from calamity; delude themselves into believing it makes them stronger even – hah! No. Their ‘society’ is a house of cards. It looks strong only until you realise that every individual must support its peers, or it all collapses. It is a cracked window a hair’s breadth from shattering, and every single one of them is a shard of glass held in place.” He looked back at Spike. “Reliance. Dependence. These creatures are not free as we are, because each lacks the individual strength to control their own destiny. And here is proof, see? A strong creature would rend those bars and escape, but this one has lost mastery over its own fate precisely because it is too weak. How does ‘collective strength’ help it now, when it finds itself at the mercy of a mighty dragon? How much of their community will fall without this card in place? So... fragile.”

“I said leave her alone,” shot Spike. “You don’t get it do you? She’s going to be fine whatever happens, because she has friends she can rely on. Ponies who care about her, and after we’re gone they’ll come get her and make sure she’s safe.”

“Never living it down,” came a tiny, groaning voice as Dash looked at the ground.

“Oh? Will they? When? How?” asked Scald, giving a wicked grin toward Rainbow. “Will it be minutes? Hours? Days? Ever? Who can say? Would you not prefer to be in control of your own destiny, pony, than to entrust it to the whims of others and blind chance? Answer honestly.”

“What? It’s not chance. Of course I know my friends are coming,” retorted Rainbow Dash with a frown.

“No you do not. Unless you are gifted with telepathy, you are guessing. It may be a good guess; it may even be likely, but you cannot know. In fact, is that desperation I hear in your voice? Or is it, ‘hope’?” He snorted again. “You place your trust in others because your individual weakness forces you to. There is no other reason to do so. The truth of the matter is if you were stronger, your fate would still be in your own hooves and you would have no need for trust or faith or friendship.” He looked back to Spike. “Do you see now, kobold? A dragon relies on no-one. Depends on no-one. Because we are strong. Strength is power. Power is freedom. And we. Are. Free.”

Rainbow turned a frown on Scald. “You keep talking about how you’re dragons and you’re the strongest and most powerful and blah blah blah. It’s gonna bite you one day. There’s a saying: There’s Always a Bigger Fish.”

At this, Scald’s smirk grew into a wicked, thin smile. “Oh... but you are wrong,” he murred. He fixed Rainbow’s gaze and held it, unblinking. “I’ve seen things you ponies wouldn’t believe,” he said in a smooth growl. “Attack ships on fire off the Horn of Zion. I’ve watched rainbows shimmering in the dark over the Borealis Plain. I was witness as Babel’s tower sundered and broke, when unity and harmony splintered like matchwood to leave only a wake of chaos. I have travelled to every corner of this world and seen things beyond your imagination. And in all my time... in all my travels... there is one thing I have never seen: anything that can match a dragon.

“There are ‘larger’ creatures but they are docile. There are ‘smarter’ creatures, but they are feeble! I have seen every possible creature on every single continent that could possibly match me, and none can. We are the apex in this world. This is not arrogance, pony. This is experience.”

“Fine, so we’re free,” said Spike and shot Scald a deliberate, sharp stare. “But just because you’re strong, it doesn’t give you the right to go around just doing whatever you want,” he argued, a prickle of anger rising, burning on the back of his neck.

A thin, cruel smirk was his reply. “Why doesn’t it? I would argue that it does. That is exactly what it is to be a dragon. The world gives us a station with no equal, why should we not enjoy it?”

“So you think it’s fine to do whatever you want – burn a city even! – just because you feel like it? Even if innocent creatures end up getting hurt?!” snapped Spike, getting angrier. It was the callousness of it all. The lack of acknowledgement that power came with responsibility. That action came with consequence. The opposite of everything he’d ever learned from Twilight and the rest of his friends.

“If I wish to see it burn. The creatures are more than welcome to get out of my way,” argued Scald. “A demonstration? Look, here: Lord Ember does not wish this city routed, but there is a village over yonder she has made no mention of. Shall we see what it looks like in flames?”

“Hey! Th-that’s Ponyville!” cried Dash.

“Was that its name? Remember it then,” murred Scald, his lips forming a smirk. He stood, rising to all-fours, ruffling his wings as though to extend them.

“You... can’t just attack Ponyville!” Spike yelled.

Scald turned back to Spike to meet his gaze and his wings settled. “But I can. That is exactly the point. And since there is nothing capable of stopping me, why should I not?” he rumbled smoothly, a wicked, wide, sharp-fanged grin spreading.

“Because the ponies will react. You would start a war!”

“War?” mused Scald with thick sarcasm. He gave a low, wicked and sinister chuckle. “Do termites go to war against an anteater? Does a forest go to war against a wildfire?”

In an instant Spike’s anger vanished and his blood turned to ice, and suddenly he felt an immense weight on him. Surely the entire safety of Ponyville couldn’t be in jeopardy just based on the whim of this giant creature! A creature who was absolutely right when he said Spike he had no way of stopping him. Suddenly he had the barest inkling of the scale of the dilemma that the Princesses must have been facing for two whole days.

“But... you can’t! Ponies live there! My friends live there! I live there!” he cried, desperate to make a convincing argument while all too aware that, to Scald, this was not it.

Scald’s expression registered surprise for a flicker of an instant. “You... live... there?”

“Umm... y-yes?”

“Uh... me too, for what it’s worth,” chimed in Dash, and Scald rolled his eyes.

“Slightly more than a scout,” he said. “Hmm.”

There was a long, awful, drawn out moment when Scald simply looked neutrally at Spike until finally, seeming to reach a decision he settled back down onto his belly. “Perhaps I shall leave it alone then.” He looked to Rainbow Dash again. “My point is made. Fortunate you are that your home town was also home to a dragon, pony,” he added with a grin.

“What do you mean, ‘was’?” retorted Dash.

Which caught Scald by surprise and he looked back to Spike in puzzlement. “Surely you are not actually planning to return?”

“What? Of course I am. I mean, when this is all over, I have to go back, ” said Spike.

A cocked head and a raised eyebrow. “Have to? Have you heard nothing of what I have said? You are free! You do not have to do anything! What could possibly compel you to return to life among these... creatures?”

“Because I’ve got responsibilities here. Ponies who are counting on me. Like... like I promised the CMC’s I’d be their announcer for their thing this weekend.” Way to go, Spike. Keep digging.

“I... see.” Scald’s eyes narrowed. “Tell me: this... ‘announcer’... is that something you really desire to be?”

“Uh... well, I guess it wasn’t top of my list for things I wanted to do this weekend, but—”

“What is top of your list of ‘things you want to do’?” asked Scald.

“Uh...? Well, I guess... sleep in, gorge on gems, seven-hour bubble-bath—”

“Then do only those things.”

Spike gave him a level, unimpressed look. “Twilight would kill me.”

“Then incinerate him.”

“Her.”

“Then incinerate her.”

“That really isn’t the simple solution you think it is,” said Spike, deadpan.

“I fail to see why. Your talk of ‘responsibilities’ is confusing. If you do not wish to do a thing, why do it?”

“Because my friends asked if I’d help them, and I made a promise.”

“Ah, a promise: hollow words, easily recanted.”

“But they’re not hollow to my friends. Doesn’t your dragon code tell you to always keep your promises, or oaths, or vows or whatever?”

“My what?”

“Uh... Dragon code?” said Spike, scratching the back of his neck with a nervous claw. “Y’know, your personal set of moral, ethical guidelines that you live by and never ever break? ‘If somepony does you a favour, repay them with something of equal or greater value,’ that sort of thing?”

He got a very strange look at that. A kind of cross between utter bewilderment and mild disgust. “Why would any dragon assume such a burden? Why would I have my freedom to satisfy my desires hamstrung by an arbitrary rule for the sake of no judge but myself?” And then, suddenly confusion vanished as though it were wiped clean from his face, replaced with comprehension and he turned to Rainbow Dash. “A young dragon lives among you. You fear him. You bind him to such tenets to keep him under control,” he surmised.

“That’s not what happened,” seethed Spike, fists clenching at his sides.

“Yeah, and I don’t make him do anything he doesn’t want to,” retorted Rainbow Dash. Then she sat on her haunches and folded her forelegs. “That’s Rarity’s job.”

Scald looked at Spike. “Whatever rules they have you follow, reject them. Whatever codes they have you keep to, abandon them. Laws, tenets, doctrines... they are the cracks in the glass. They are not for you. Do you not understand your birthright? Your destiny, little kobold? It is a life of ease and fancy. Not one of toil and drudgery or completing menial tasks for those that are beneath you. You know no master but impulse and desire. Your actions have no limits and no repercussions. For you... there is only freedom!”

Spike had to shake his head to clear it. In spite of himself, in spite of everything he was, he was loathe to admit there was a building, involuntary fascination with Scald’s ideas. The notion that he, Spike, could be gifted with the ability to do anything he desired, without consequence was... intoxicating. It was like a whole new kind of greed.

“Okay, fine,” he said, not out-argued yet. “You say I’m a dragon, so I’m powerful and I can do anything I want? Well, what if I what I want to do with my ‘power,’ is help my friends? What then?” he challenged. “You got a problem with that?”

Again he got a strange look. “You are an odd one,” the dragon said. Then he shrugged. “If that is truly what fulfills you, so be it. You are making a choice to do so, not locked into a matrix of dependence as they are. And I for one do not care what you do, as long as it does not interfere with me.”

“Oh, really? Because in the past, other dragons have had a real problem with me being friends with ponies.”

“They were young? We are all guilty of impetuousness in our youth. Eventually you too will learn that the only thing that matters is self-satisfaction. Others’ proclivities are irrelevant.” Scald gave him a very direct look, then. “As for ‘being friends’ with them? You would do well see that lie for what it is sooner than later. Many immature dragons experiment with social bonds. Invariably they are soon grown out of. You heard me earlier: ‘friendship’ is a construct of reliance. The only path to strength is independence. You will learn the virtues of solitude one day. Harshly, if you return to that village,” he warned.

“Huh? Solitude? What... are you talking about?”

“You are a kobold, but you will grow into a dragon. Emphasis on ‘grow.’” He glanced at Dash with a sneer. “Their kind may accommodate you now, but how long will they continue to tolerate your presence? Will they view you the same when you can no longer fit through their doors? Or when you can reach the tops of their trees? How about when a false step could crush one of their homes?” He shook his head pointedly. “They will come to fear you. It will be subtle at first, but gradually you will be ostracised; where once you enjoyed a bed your size will force you to find the shelter of a nearby cave to sleep in. Then you will need a larger cave, further away. Eventually you will lose all ties... and they will be glad to be rid of you. But then remember, you are a dragon. The world is your playground.”

Spike found himself stunned. The retort he’d been preparing dying in his throat, a little chill running down the back of his neck.

“Hey! You don’t know what you’re talking about! That won’t happen!” yelled Dash, but even as she said it, Spike knew it wasn’t true. He turned to her slowly, with a crestfallen expression.

“Yeah it will. One day,” he said softly to her. “Maybe you won’t force me out, but when the time comes... when I’m a threat... I won’t let my friends live in fear of me.”

“However you care to rationalise it, it is the fate of us all,” said Scald. “I do not comprehend your sudden melancholy, little kobold. You are a dragon – or you will be. You should feel exhilarated! You will be strong. You will be powerful. You will be—!”

“Alone,” said Spike quietly.

As he said the word a cold, dreadful weight settled over him. Suddenly his whole, inevitable future as a dragon seemed to resolve into the sharpest focus. It was unlimited freedom. Unlimited power. Every action possible with no care given. It was everything he could possibly desire all his for the taking. And it was very, very lonely.

Just like Scald... and every other dragon.

Every other dragon except Ember. Suddenly there was another future drawing into focus just as clearly. The future that she was trying to create, and it was a whole lot brighter. There was friendship there. There was honour and loyalty and respect for everyone, dragon or pony. And it was a future that he wasn’t going to let die.

Scald might imagine that all dragons spent their lives alone. But Spike? He’d never been alone. Even from the very first moment he had hatched he had always been surrounded by those who loved and cared for him. Even when he’d made mistakes that had never changed. And as time had gone on, the number of those he could count on had only grown and grown. There were a great many ponies who cared about him; knew they could count on him; trusted him, and they ran the whole gamut from three young fillies, to very important princesses. And as he thought on this, he found a solid kernel of resolve form in the pit of his stomach, and the germ of an idea began to form.

Because there were other forms of strength than individual might. Scald might refuse to acknowledge them, but Spike knew better. Oh, he knew better. He had an almost impossible task, but there was a way. Oh, it was so impossibly risky. So indraconically stupid. It would never, ever work unless he had the complete and total trust of several people who didn’t even trust each other. But he trusted them. And they trusted him. It would work. He knew it.

Spike raised his head, fixed a low, unblinking frown, and put himself between Scald and Equestria, standing right at the cliff edge and meeting Scald’s stare with one of pure determination.

“You think you can do whatever you want just because you’re strong? That you can insult princesses, threaten villages and put my friends in cages and nothing will stop you? You’re wrong,” he growled. “And I’m gonna prove it.”

“Oh? And just what could stop me?” teased Scald with a confident smirk.

“Me. I’d stop you.”

Comments

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She fixed him with another serious look. “I’m gonna need you to eat me out.”

I don't know whether to shake my head or to stand and applaud.

I also don't know whether to be ashamed to admit that I laughed... but I did. A lot.

[Csquared08]

Oh boy. I hope Spike has a good plan.

[Periwinkle fay 22]

Fabulous story.

“Uh, Dash? That’s not a serial number, that’s just your name spelled out,” observed Spike.

And this right here. This was a stop reading and laugh for a solid 30 seconds imperative.

I always enjoy the tales you spin.
Thank you for sharing your craft.